


I'll take it all in, and hope I can resist; at least just a tiny bit more, before you come for me

by theLadyofBelmont, Yellow (theLadyofBelmont)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Big Brother Dick Grayson, Brotherly Bonding, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Canon Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt Tim Drake, I Made Myself Cry, Jason Todd Deserves Better, Minor Violence, Protective Dick Grayson, Protective Siblings, Swearing, The joker sucks, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson Bonding, Tim Drake Angst, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake and Dick Grayson are Siblings, Tim Drake is Robin, because jason always dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21865654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLadyofBelmont/pseuds/theLadyofBelmont, https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLadyofBelmont/pseuds/Yellow
Summary: Dick takes Tim out on patrol without Batman's permission in his first months of being Robin
Relationships: Batfamily - Relationship, Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo.... another Dick Grayson related fanfic, but this time it centers in his and Tim's relationship! I think it sticks to the canon in pretty much everything, though I do want to clarify that I'm not sure if the timing or ages are right, I just wrothe what I felt. It is definitely situated in the first months of Tim as Robin after Jason's dead (he isn't back yet) Hope you enjoy it!

The door of his room creaked opened and he wiped the tears off of his cheeks, as a smiling familiar face popped in.

-Hey Timbo! The teen looked up from behind his book, sniffing.

\- Hi, um, Richard.

The unexpected guest chuckled softly. - Tim, we’ve talked about this. You’re family. And my family and friends call me Dick.

-Thanks…Dickie. -he said, now with a teasing smile.

He laughed even harder at that.

\- You’re my brother not my dad.

-Nor am I Barbara. - Tim added, a mischievous grin creeping up his face.

Dick reddened quickly. - That’s…also true. H-how…how do you…?

-Soo…what’s up? -he asked putting the book down while the older boy pushed his dark curls back and sat beside him. Despite being new at Wayne Manor, he had come to learn that Dick was very much fond of that kind of visits and his own door was always open as well. At least when he was in town, though he had made it clear Tim was always welcome in Blüdhaven.

-Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go on patrol with me tonight.

_So he knows about our fight._

_And how could he not know, they probably heard the yelling and the door slamming back at Metropolis._

-Helloo! Earth to Tim!-Dick exclaimed, waving his hand before his eyes.

Tim hesitated. _Does he really want to or is it just out of pity?_ –Does this have anything to do with Bruce and I getting into a fight earlier before? Is this your way to cheer me up?

-Wait, you guys had a fight? -he asked in an attempt to sound surprised. But he couldn’t fool Tim. Under his skeptical look and raised eyebrows, Dick cracked.- Would it be so bad if it were?

He sounds genuine. Another thing he had come to learn was that Dick took his older brother duties very seriously. It could be annoying sometimes to have him sticking his nose where it didn’t belong, but deep down it felt good to have someone who was always there for him.

\- Won’t Bruce be mad about you taking me out on patrol without his permission? - he had already had a fight with Bruce and was not looking forward to the next one. He was not looking forward to see him at all in the near future for that matter.

The young adult arched an eyebrow. - Bruce is not the boss of me.

Maybe it was just Tim’s imagination but he could have sworn he had heard the slightest trace of defense in his tone. -You do remember that you’re basically living under his roof, right?

-I don’t technically live here, remember? I’m just staying over under Alfred’s invitation.

-Indefinitely.

-Well, yeah.-he admitted with a shrug.- So are you up for it or not?

_Screw Batman._ \- Count me in. Tonight you’re the boss.

-That’s what I’m talking about!-he high-fived him. - Suit up! Dick jumped of the bed and headed for the Cave.

…

On the rooftops the wind breathed savagely and tugged at his cape making it swirl and slap. Tim mentally congratulated his past self for designing a suit that kept the cold at bay.

If Dick’s wasn’t as efficient as his he never showed. Jumping from ledge to ledge he seemed to fly like a feather caught in a breeze, landing gracefully after trick, while cracking jokes and teasing him friendly.

Tim had become very fond of doing activities with Dick; after all, he was the older brother he never had; and going on patrol with him wasn’t the exception. The differences with his mentor were so astonishing no one would believe one had trained the other. Nightwing wasn’t nearly as cautious as Batman or as reckless as Tim had feared, but rather kept a pinch of boldness to spice things up a little bit. He let him go around on his own so long as he kept in touch via radio and didn’t go too far, while the Bat wanted him at his heels at all times, and scolded him whenever he was a few steps ahead of him.

He would make cartwheels, back flips and complicated and elaborated jumps where Bruce would have simply run and shot a gripping gun. The main difference, however? Dick appeared to enjoy himself on the job, which only made Tim’s admiration for him grow even more.

-Hey Timbo, are you still with me? - Nightwing asked while doing a handstand over a granite gargoyle. Only then did he realize he had fallen a bit behind.

\- Sorry, I was…I had my mind somewhere else, that’s all. What were you saying?

He finally caught up with him, running past a long line of battered and pigeon-droppings-stained gargoyles, and jumped to the next rooftop. Dick got to his feet and followed right up. - I asked you what you and Bruce were arguing about.

The top part of his stomach became a knot at the mention of the fight, a mixture of embarrassment and anger tightening it up. He had partially accepted his brother’s offer to go out in hopes of avoid thinking but it seemed the matter would follow him everywhere he went.

-Nothing, just something stupid. -he tried to dismiss it, but even without seeing Dick’s face (he was ahead of him again) he knew he wouldn’t drop the subject until he got his answer. Why? Why was he like this?

He didn’t want to think about it; Bruce had hurt his pride…hurt him: and he had said some things he was not particularly proud of. No. he had shed enough tears about it. He was done. And yet he felt that unless he complained to someone about it, his outrage would start leaking out of him and he would eventually explode. _Maybe if I tell him only what the argument was about I can leave out what I said to him._ He appeased himself with hat thought despite deep down being sure that was unlikely to happen.

-He, um, he asked where the files of our last case was and I told him I had finished it and taken it to Commissioner Gordon and…I don’t know, he freaked out. He told me he couldn’t believe I had been stupid enough to risk exposing my identity like that and went on about how he would never had done something so irresponsible, so I said that just because it wasn’t what his ugly old ass would have done it didn’t mean it was wrong.

-Ow, hit him where it hurts, the old card. I think I’ve used it more than once.

_I bet you didn’t use the card I ended up using though._

-What did he say then? - Dick asked apparently amused.

-He…he told me Jason would have never done something like that either.

An uncomfortable silence followed before his brother dared to break it. -That is a lie if I’ve ever heard one. Jason would have 100% done something like that and worse. - Dick sighed. - And what did you reply?

Tim pretended his words had been lost in the dark space between roofs. His answer had left a sore spot in him after going over it so many times in his bedroom. He felt more ashamed than he had ever had and didn’t think he could bare the look on Dick’s face if he told him. The disappointment, the regret that would fill his blue eyes made his heart ache already.

-Tim? What did you say? -he had stopped running now and looked at him straight in the eyes. Robin avoided his stare.

\- I, um,- _Think, think of something else! What could I have said? What should I have said?_ But he didn’t want to lie; not to Dick. He deserved the truth. - You promise you won’t get mad?

-I do…I do Tim, of course; you can tell me anything.- he sounded rather surprised, maybe even a little hurt that Tim had been so scared. That only made it worse.

He took a deep breath. His face and neck burned already and he hadn’t even said a word. - I asked him if…if Jason was so good and responsible then how come he was dead? - the words tasted bitterly in his mouth but they finally came out.

Dick’s eyes widened but for a moment he stayed silent.

_I screwed up; first with Batman and now him. They hate me now._

\- I figured it would be something like that. - was the first thing his brother said after a long sigh.

Tim didn’t waste another minute. - I’m sorry, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean it. I was just…he just made me so…so angry. I know it’s not an excuse but it…it slipped right out of my mouth. I regretted the moment I said it but it was late obviously, and I just…I’m sorry, I don’t…Do you…do you think he’ll kick me out?- He felt his cheeks burn even more after asking such a selfish question but he couldn’t hold it back. If Bruce was going to fire him he needed to know; he needed to be prepared.

Only now did Dick seem surprised. - What? Tim, no, Bruce…he won’t kick you out, I promise you. Believe me, I’ve said something similar once or twice but he isn’t angrier at me now than he was before.

Dick sighed again and massaged the bridge of his nose. The turquoise symbol on his chest glistened under the street lights. Tim had often wondered why he had chosen it. He knew it wasn’t a bat; despite not knowing the cause of it, he wasn’t oblivious to the weird tension between him and Bruce; but why an eagle? Unless it wasn’t that but another bird. A dove maybe? Or a raven? Could it be a Robin?

-Look, Tim,- he started, pulling the younger boy out of his thoughts. His tone was serious but not angry, and it definitely didn’t sound like a scolding, though Tim was still unsure what it was. - I…I understand these things happen. Like I told you, I made the same mistake a couple of times; and Bruce more than anyone knows how people say things they don’t really mean when they are upset. I just want…I want you to remember that Jason’s death wasn’t his fault or Bruce’s; no matter what he thinks I believe or how he feels like, okay? It was the…the fricking-

-Dick, I’m thirteen years old, you can say fucking, it’s fine.

He gave him a sided smile. - the fucking Joker, then. So, just try not to use that card, okay? Insult his detective skills or his hair, or go back to the good old age card, it infuriates him.- Tim giggled as his brother put a hand on his shoulder and stared into his icy blue eyes behind the mask.- He shouldn’t have treated you like that. I know he’s grieving for Jason but that doesn’t excuse his behavior and I want you to know you have the right to be mad at him, ‘kay?

Robin nodded softly and Dick pulled him into one of his warm hugs. He was fond of those as well. He smell the plastic scent of his suit’s fabric and underneath it his favourite perfume. -I’ll tell you what; - he said when Tim pulled back. He wasn’t a long-hugger like the older boy. - after tonight’s patrol I’ll take you to bite Batman’s head off if it makes you feel any better.

Tim blinked twice, his eyes round like plates. -Wh…what…?

Dick bursted into laughter for at least twenty seconds. - There’s an ice cream shop nearby that sells Batman-shaped popsicles. Relax, who do you take me for? I’m not a psycho!

Tim cracked a smile too when Nightwing messed up his hair and chased after him over the rooftops.

…

At first glance it seemed like an ordinary mugging, though after a closer look they realized some mobsters had been cheated on and wanted revenge. The circle of men shadowed the man between them but they could hear his cries for mercy and his vain promises of paying them back soon even from five stories up.

-We…we’ll intervene, right? - Tim asked in a whisper that steamed in front of him. They probably wouldn’t hear him even if he spoke at a normal volume but he didn’t want to risk it.

Dick glanced at the deserted street at the left of the alley and then at the right one, wrapped in a blanket of shadows but quiet. - I don’t see why not. - The wind played with his hair giving it weird and crazy shapes. - I just want to see what we’re up against; what weapons they got.

-We’re vastly outnumbered. -he thought wise to point out. As if he had heard them, one of the mobsters, probably their leader, pulled out a revolver and the others followed with guns and knives.

-It’s seven against two; eight if the one in the middle decides to join them but I don’t think he will. Besides, look at those arms, - he added pointing at the weapons they held. - they’re quite old and rusty. They’re clearly not high-rank criminals; they won’t give us much trouble. I think we can take them, but I don’t want to push you to do something you don’t want to.

_Wow. He is nothing like Batman. He would have just told me to jump right after him._ Tim thought for a moment. Dick had a point and there weren’t any cars on the street so there was no chance more hidden mobsters would come out of them to back up their teammates.

The fact that the victim wasn’t a normal civilian didn’t bother him much; they still had no right to kill him. _Get a lawyer with your dirty money and sue him._

-Okay, let’s do it.

Nightwing grinned. - Ready your weapons.

Tim unfolded the staff he kept in his utility belt; pulled out a batrang and a couple of smoke bombs and nodded.

Dick unsheathed the eskrima on his back and stood up to stretch his legs after crouching for a while. Robin did the same. The black and blue vigilante was not only years older but at least two heads taller than he was. When he looked down to him, his eyes sparkled.

– Throw the batrang and knock off the gun off his hand, Robin.

He didn’t miss. The men turned startled and broke the circle, trying to catch a glimpse of the vigilante; an arm, a leg, a chest; anything they could shoot at. In a split second the alley turned grey and misty, huge clouds of smoke rising and clawing at the night sky after Tim dropped the tiny metallic balls. Dick dived right into the surprised screams and he followed.

The smoke still stung in his eyes a bit but not as bad as the first few times and the tears weren’t so many he couldn’t see or fight. Besides, the mist served its purpose: it disorientated their rivals and hid their own moves, giving them the perfect circumstances for a surprise attack. There was always, however, the possibility that the criminals had been trained to use the smoke the same way they did. Luckily, this wasn’t the case.

Tim knocked a man off his feet with a swipe of his staff and kicked the gun out of his hand. He grabbed what he supposed was the lid of a trash can and smashed it on the back of another mobster’s neck. The barrel of man dropped down with a grunt.

In between the din he heard someone being pinned against a wall but couldn’t have said if it was Nightwing or one of the bad guys.

He was strangely tranquil, though. He had to give Batman some credit for that; he had made sure to teach him to keep his mind cool during a fight.

He ran and pushing himself upwards with his staff slammed his legs directly into one of the men’s chest, his whole weight going on the strike leaving both of them on the ground.

A bullet whistled past his ear and dug deep into the brick wall behind him. He raised his head and threw a batrang straight into the mobster’s temple. The smoke was clearing.

Tim spotted Nightwing’s blue symbol almost at the exit of the alley as he left the last standing criminal unconscious.

A wisp of a man that had been crouched behind a dust bin stood up and bolted out as if his life depended on it.

Dick turned to see where he headed and looked back at Tim. – Great job. I already called Gordon to take these guys away but I have to catch the other one. All good if I leave you here ‘till I get back?

The teen nodded.- Sure, go get him. – he said before Dick disappeared into the streets.

Tim took advantage of the spare time to catch his breath. He sat up and leaned backwards, the bricks cold against his scalp damp with sweat. He was close enough to the ground for the smell of garbage and spilled beer to fill his nostrils freely.

_This is disgusting; I should move._

_No, no, just a few more minutes, I just found a comfortable posture._

He breathed through his mouth instead, to avoid the stench.

He couldn’t help but think of Batman. _He’ll be proud. Even if he’s mad at first he’ll have to agree we did a good job with these guys._

He only heard a soft sound at first; the scrap of something against paper. The wind making the old newspapers dance.

He realized later those were footsteps.

\- Robin is that you? Why, this is one hell of a surprise; I thought I had seen the last of you in that old warehouse, eh?

Tim’s eyes shot wide open upon hearing the voice. He did not recognize it, but something in it sent chills down his spine, despite not being able to say exactly what.

The sound came from the opposite end of the alleyway though he could not find it. Only when the darkness spit him out did he start to distinguish his shape.

_No, no we…we checked. There was nothing…there was no one there!_

He wore a tailor made purple suit and designer shoes that tapped almost musically against the ground alongside the cane on his right hand, though he didn’t seem to need it to walk. His face was a painted mask hidden under a mane of hair that had a strange colour under the street lights, but Tim knew it was green. They had never met, but he knew him well enough.

His breath appeared to have been sucked out of his lungs and his limbs froze to the point where they seemed to be an extension of the wall behind him.

_Him…him…it’s really him._

His mind became a fuzzy thing, like a TV screen that can’t tune in to any channel or any coherent thoughts. _Him._

The man approached with long but dramatically slow steps, as though he were pacing around a stage.

Although slim he towered over him and bent over a bit to get a better look at him. Tim couldn’t quite see his face but he knew. He was smiling.

-You’re not him. - he sighed, almost disappointed.- He was hunkier and taller than you and, my guess, probably older.- His smile turned more mischievous as he whispered. – You are a new one aren’t you? He got himself a new bird. Batman’s got a new bird child! Come out Batsy, Batsy! – he yelled now, jumping around the alley. Tim sat petrified and mute with horror as he added. – Come out and see how I peal off the skin of your little bird’s bones!! Come out Bats!!

_It’s him…it’s him!!_

His mouth was completely dry and his thoughts still a mess yet he made himself speak. _I have to buy some time. At least until Dick gets here. Or Gordon. Whatever happens first._

-He isn’t…he isn’t here.

-Oh, he speaks then; the little bird has a tongue!- he clapped almost happily.- Tell me, little bird, if the Big Bad Bat isn’t here then how did you make all this mess all by yourself?- he gestured theatrically at the passed out criminals.

-I…I…I did. - his tongue had stiffened too it seemed. _Bruce, where are you? I’m sorry Bruce, please come!_

He laughed, his face dropping quickly and his voice lowering to a growl. – And I don’t believe you.

Panicked, Tim scrambled backwards to his right, towards the mouth of the alley, but the man’s long legs allowed him to catch him in three strides. He dug the tip of his cane on Tim’s chest, forcing him down.

-You know those were my boys, right? They were doing a job for ME; collecting a debt from someone who refused to pay me what he owed me. But thanks to you, - he gave him a little push with his cane at the word. – and your friend the Bat, - another push. - this little filthy snake got away before he could pay up.- he pushed at every word hard enough to make Tim feel he would crash his breastbone any minute.- So now I’ve got no money Boy Wonder, but I bet they’ll give me a fair amount for those pretty blue eyes of yours, eh? Did you know the other one had blue eyes too?– He burst into a maniacal laughter that froze Tim’s blood inside its vessels.

A relentless hammer had replaced his heart, beating violently, the adrenaline fueling it to the point of insanity. I _t’s him. He killed Jason…this is…this is the last thing he saw and now he’ll…he’ll kill me too!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is chapter two, this time from Dick's point of view! Warning some angst at the end! Hope you like it!!

Dick had just finished tying up Vito (it turned out that was the runaway debtor’s name) to a nearby lamp post. He had managed to go quite further than what he had expected for a corrupt business man.

As he made his way back to the alley he stopped to listen. The police sirens sounded far in the distance, somewhere else in Gotham. What was taking Gordon so long?

_Why am I worrying so much? Tim probably has all of them tied up by now._

He had feared the large number of mobsters would nail his brother on his place with fright but he had managed excellently and had kept his cool during the whole fight. I have to give it to you Bruce; you’re doing a great job with him. Though training was rarely the part his mentor failed at. It hadn’t been like that with him or with Jason, and from what he had seen the last couple of months, not with Tim either.

A strange sound came to his ears. Low missing words he could not quite puzzle together. Was Tim talking to himself?

Dick could not help a fond smile curling up his lips. _I used to do that too; to remember all of Batman’s instructions._ He still did that sometimes; the habit had stayed with him.

_No, it’s not Tim. It doesn’t sound like him._

The voice traveled like a roller coaster, high pitched climbs followed by sheer drops to a low husky growl. It wasn’t Tim’s, yet it sounded familiar; too peculiar to ever forget it the weird thing was that it made him tense up a bit and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up like spikes, as though his body was in red alert. The voice generated this reflex in him, but why? _This isn’t good; I need to find Tim_.

He couldn’t begin to call out his brother’s name before the words got stuck in his closing throat, as he heard the _laughter_. That dreadful laughter he hadn’t heard in months but that still haunted his sleep some nights.

It was _him_ ; the owner of the voice; the owner of the laughter. It was him; him who had sprayed him with his toxic gas so many times in his youth he had drilled a nervous laugh into his every day behavior; him who had made Bruce’s, Alfred’s and his life a living nightmare for the past months. Him who had killed Jason Todd, his little brother, and him who was probably getting ready to kill his other one. What if he had already…?

_I’ve got to help him_. If he wasn’t already too late.

But his legs wouldn’t move. He had stopped dead on his tracks just at the corner of the alley way and his body whole seemed to have merged with the brick wall at his side into one hard unmovable structure. An alarm had set off in his head ringing desperately, begging even, for him to leave, to go find Batman, Gordon or anyone else to deal with this. He needed to get away from him, he just couldn’t do it. He forced his neck forward and peeked into the alley.

The man had Tim pinned against the ground with his cane pressed hard against his chest and laughed hysterically.

Tim, on the other hand, was white as a sheet of paper and quieter than he had ever seen him, maybe in hopes that if he stayed that way, the psychopath would somehow forget about him.

The cane itself wouldn’t have been enough to hold him down, especially considering he had both arms and legs free, if only he hadn’t been so…scared. For the first time after months of training, he realized how young he actually was, how young he looked laying petrified on the newspaper covered floor, completely mute with terror. Out of the three Robins, Tim appeared to have won himself the “rational one label”, but this man had managed to scare him out of his wits.

A sight appeared before his eyes. It wasn’t a memory; it couldn’t be, he hadn’t been there. But he had imagined it, played it in his mind thousands of times, wishing the end would finally change if he kept imaging it.

He saw Jason, as young as the first time they had met; laying on the cold floor, his face bathed in blood from a gash on his temple. The ragged and slashed ‘R’ on his chest shook with the rest of him. And he saw the same man; tying him up to a column, laughing that terrible laugh, taunting him and finally leaving him to die. He watched as the realization of his imminent death sank deeper and deeper into Jason. And the look of desperation on his eyes was the same as Tim’s.

_No. Not my brother. Not again!_

He slid off his eskrima sticks from behind his back and clutched them tight hoping his fingers and his body whole would stop trembling; hoping his heart would stop trying to shoot itself straight out of his rib cage. _Deep breaths, Dick, deep breaths_. The laughter kept ringing in his ears, though it was hard to say whether it was still there or just in his mind. The wind kept smacking him cooling the sweat on the back of his neck, making him shiver.

_One, two…_ Dick leapt forward and turned the corner. Not my brother. Not again. He tackled the Joker taking him by surprise, and body-slammed him against the nearest wall. He felt the impact through the clown’s skinny body and shoved him again, harder. _Not again. Not my brother!_ He repeated like a mantra.

_Not again, please!_

He smacked him against his painted face with his stick, but as he raised it again the Joker got over his initial shock and caught his wrist midair. He twisted it with unbelievable strength, making the acrobat shift his weight, allowing him to wriggle free from under his body. Dick’s wrist screamed in painful anger but he only gasped.

-You are not Batsy! - He cried out in disappointment. - You’re just one of his stupid birds. Why does he have so many? He’s had at least three robins, and now…what? Just a simple eagle?

He threw his head backwards as he laughed that blood-freezing laugh, giving Dick enough time to hit him in the inner part of the elbow. The clown loosened his grip on him just the right amount for him to back flip out of reach.

The Joker just smiled, though that was somehow even worse than a scowl would have been. – Well, not just a plain boring eagle, I see. You’re like that first robin he had; you sure fly like he did. – He stopped to reminisce almost fondly. – But you’re that blue bird from Blüdhaven now, aren’t you? – His smile widened, if that was even possible, and he bared all of his teeth. One of them sparkled under the street lamps the way foil shines in the sun. – You’re too far from the nest, eaglet.

Nightwing threw one of his wing rangs at him and glanced quickly at Tim. He was sitting now, still and completely drilled to the ground, his eyes wide and glassy with fear and tears behind the mask.

-Dick…- the word barely left his lips, strained and inaudible.

_I can’t…I can’t beat him alone. And I won’t ask him to fight, not when he’s like this. We need to get away._

Despite having caught him in the shoulder, the wing rang didn’t appear to have affected the Joker. He simply pulled it out with a wince and held it in his hand, letting the blood soak through his purple suit and slide off of the metal in slow round drops. The wing rang clinked against a trash can when he threw it to the side and started to approach, leaving a red trail behind him.

Dick walked backwards towards Tim, towards the exit. A distraction, he needed a distraction.

One of his eskrima sticks was flying right to the Joker’s head before he could think of something better. After it came the smoke balls and huge clouds cloaked him as he ran and caught Tim by the collar of his cape, pulling him right to his feet.

-Ti-Robin, we gotta go, NOW! The boy snapped out of it and jumped to follow him. He grabbed his arm and held onto him as Dick snatched the gripping gun from Tim’s utility belt and shot it to the buildings in front of them.

And they flew. High in the air, the wind caught in Robin’s cape as though it were a pair of bright yellow wings; and carried the clown’s laughter into the night.

…

-I think we lost him.

It was the second time Robin said it, but Dick couldn’t avert his eyes from the horizon. He could still picture the green mane popping up over the rooftops outlined by the moon’s faint touch. That had never happened to begin with, though. The Joker hadn’t made the slightest attempt to follow them; he had just stood there and laughed uncontrollably.

_How could I let this happen? After Jason, how could I!? He rubbed harder at his wrist and winced. He probably had sprained it but nothing too serious. No, don’t beat yourself up now; Tim needs you. Look at him._

He turned. Robin, watery-eyed barely stood on his legs, visibly shaking underneath his cape. Aside from a few bruises and scratches on his arms and forehead he seemed unhurt. Still, he went to him and gently held him by the elbows.

-Are you alright Tim? Are you hurt? Did he do anything to you?

Tim shook his head painfully slow, biting his lower lip. He sniffed and raised his hand to rub his nose. – No, I…he… -his voice cracked and he flung himself into Dick’s arms.

-It’s okay buddy; it’s okay Timmy, I’m here. –his brother clung to him with all of his strength as if he were about to vanish. He felt his tiny back trembling as he cried, the fear finally melting away and the tension on his limbs dissolving. - It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re safe now.

-I was…I was just so… -sobs choked his words and Dick became suddenly aware of Tim’s head not even reaching his shoulder. _He’s just…a kid._ He was too young, way too young to be living this life. Why had he chosen it so deliberately?

-It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay. –he kept mumbling, reassuring Tim just as much as himself.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually his baby brother run out of tears. He quickly unlocked his brother’s from behind Dick’s back and attempted to appear composed. He fooled no one, however. He had taken off his mask which only made his puffy red eyes stand out even more.

Maybe he should have waited until they were back in the Manor or maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all, but his conscious was killing him and he could not hold it any longer. – Tim, I...I am so sorry I put you in this situation. If I…if I had… -he closed his eyes shut, his entire body recoiling in embarrassment of his actions. It should have crossed his mind; the possibility of higher risk was always there. He should have known. - If it had ever occurred to me that he could have been there I would have never asked you to come. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to…I never meant to put you in danger, believe me I… - a small hand being laid on his arm cut him off.

-I know Dick, don’t worry.

-How can I not worry!? –he asked startled and almost outraged by Tim’s serenity. –I am the grown up, I was responsible for you, supposed to keep you safe.

-And you did. –Tim’s voice had a particularly soothing tone. _Is he worried about me?_

-You could have been killed!

-But I wasn’t.

-But you shouldn’t have gotten so close! I should have taken care of you, I’m the adult.

-Dick, you have cereal for dinner almost four times a week and not for lack of money. Don’t flatter yourself. –Robin deadpanned.

He couldn’t help but laugh, the sound and movement warming his chest in a pleasing way. –That was uncalled for.

-But completely spot on, wasn’t it? -Tim snickered.

-Maybe. –he fondly messed his brother’s hair. This time he came to him and hugged him tight, his head resting on the neon wings on his chest.

-Thank you for saving me, Dick. –he said once he pulled apart. –I was…I was scared, I know that’s not very Robin-like but he is…

-He’s scary, I know; he scared me too.Tim’s pale blue eyes lifted, astonished. –You serious? –Dick nodded. –Nah, no way, I don’t believe you.

-It’s true. –he said with a shrug. –I was afraid he would hurt my family. Again.

Tim beamed happily and seemed to glow as if he had swollen a flashlight. –For real? –he asked, two questions with one breath.

-For real. And don’t think for a second that Robins are not scared; it’s just as much a part of the job as the tight suit.

He giggled like the child he was before putting his mask back on. –Dick, do you think we could go have that ice cream you told me about?

…

The two young vigilantes sat on a rooftop over a lonely street; their masks on, hiding their identity, but only to the outside world. To each other they bared their true selves.

-Come here buddy. –Dick told him as he grabbed a tissue and wiped off the cream and chocolate mess his brother’s chin had become. He had formed a more or less clean circle around his lips where he had licked it off but the rest had been out of his reach. Tim groaned, reluctantly turning his head so Dick could scrub better.

–I could simply wash my face when we get home, you know?

-It’ll be all dry and stuck to your skin. It’s pretty dry now already. –he added scrubbing harder at a spot under his brother’s jaw. – Seriously, how do you get ice cream all the way down here? I really can’t get… -he froze, the tissue still firmly clutched on his hand.

_Oh my God. Oh my God._

-I’m becoming Bruce, aren’t I? –he whined, face palming.

-Well, you did say it with a dad voice. –Tim snickered. –And you certainly aren’t getting any younger Dick…

He gasped in feigned offense. –How dare you use the “old card” on me, its rightful creator and owner? I lent it to you ad you betrayed me you little… -chuckling, he lurched forward and tickled his brother.

Tim let out a high-pitched scream before bursting into laughter. –No, no, no stop…You’ll…you’ll make me drop my ice cream! –he screamed, waving over his head the last of his dessert that still clung to the wooden stick. Chocolate and cream were sliding down his gloves and arm.

-Fine, but once you finish it, you’re in for it.

Soon enough, Tim’s laughter gave way to a much more serious tone and expression. –Dick can I…can I ask you a something?

-You just did pal. –he replied with a wink, as he leaned back and nibbled at one of Batman’s chocolate ears.

His brother snorted. –And on top of it the dad jokes; you’re not making things easy for me Grayson. –his smile shrunk and became shier. –I um, I wanted to ask you, why is there…why is the symbol of your suit an eagle? Because it’s that, isn’t it?

Dick sighed, nodding slightly. He remembered now all the times he had caught Tim eyeing the blue bird with avid curiosity, his mind visibly trying to work out the solution to another puzzle. What had gotten into his head to make him so eager to know the answer?

_Is he afraid it means I’ll leave him? Does he think the symbol on my chest represents I belong to someone else?_ Most important of all, did it actually mean any of those things?

_No._

No, he knew why he had chosen the eagle; he knew what it stood for. But he also knew why the eagle was not a bat.

-It’s for my parents. When I lived at Haly’s, every performer had their own costume, and my family and I had one with a sort of eagle on the chest, with its wings spread wide open. It kind of contributed to the “Flaying Graysons” theme. –he explained, casually glancing at his brother’s expression to check if he got upset. Tim’s face, however, was a mask under another. –So when I started going by Nightwing and had to design a new costume I thought it would be nice to add that detail. To honor them; keep them close and never forget them, - _Although I could never._ –to remind me of my roots.

Tim nodded slowly. –That’s good. –he mumbled. Even at his young age, Dick sometimes had trouble seeing through him; Robin wasn’t nearly as transparent as he was. –Dick, are you mad at Bruce?

_There it is._

Of course it would lead to him; it always did, one way or another. But was he, though? Was he still angry at him? Was Bruce still mad at _him_?

-Maybe a little. –he replied, trying to be the most honest he could. Tim had finally finished his ice cream and Dick started fidgeting with the wooden stick. He made it dance between his gloved fingers, balancing it on the tip of his index and then on his knuckles. –It’s complicated. We had a great relationship in the past but I screwed it up when I moved out, joined the force in Blüdhaven and got more immersed in the Titans. When Jason became Robin things became tenser, and after his death it was even worse.

-Why? –Tim’s voice was Barkly a whisper and Dick gave him a look that read perfectly clear that he shouldn’t be telling him that. – It’s technically part of my story too, since I’m the new Robin.

He rolled his eyes but continued. –None of us knew what to do or what to say. Bruce, being who he is, was pushing Alfred and me away. At first I persisted and tried to stay, but the more I tried the, the more I began to feel like he was blaming me. Not for his death exactly, -he rushed to add upon seeing Tim’s eyes grow wide. –but for not being there more often and especially when it happened. So I…left again. We were having fights all the time and I just…I couldn’t handle it. –he paused biting his lower lip; months had passed and his regret for his actions had done nothing but increase. –But when I heard that he had taken you in, I started coming over.

-And will you guys ever fix this? –he asked sounding like a child whose parents were getting divorced.

-Yeah, of course buddy. Regardless, you can always count on me for anything, alright? If you need someone to talk to or if you need a place to stay, my apartment in Blüdhaven is big enough for both of us. I’ve got your back, okay? After all, eagles and robins are from the same family. They look after each other. –he ruffled his hair fondly. Despite not being blood relatives, Tim looked a lot like him when he was younger. Now that he came to think about it, the three Robins had shared both the blue eyes and the black manes.

-Then I promise I won’t snitch. –the new Robin vowed.

-Huh?

-To Bruce. I won’t tell him what happened tonight; I don’t want to get you in trouble.

Dick let out a long sigh. He had completely forgotten it had been an unauthorized patrol. He groaned to himself. _He’ll have my head for this_.

-No, it’s…it’s fine Tim, I’ll tell him I took you out without his permission. Besides, he should know the Joker’s back in town. Even if he was just collecting payments he could be up to something bigger. You of all people should know the importance of details.

-Me of all people?

-Yeah, you figured out my and Bruce’s identity by seeing me perform somersaults in the show and then as Robin, right? –Tim nodded, his cheeks colouring in different shades of pink. –There’s nothing to be ashamed of, though. You pieced together in your living room what the entire Gotham Police Department hasn’t yet in their own headquarters after years of experience. You’re an amazing detective.

Tim blushed harder but his eyes gleamed with pride. All of a sudden, a terrible thought that erased his pleased expression and replaced it with a doubtful one, washed over him. –Dick you’re not…you’re not mad at me for being Robin in your place, are you?

-No, nothing of the sort Tim. –and as much as the question pained him, he forced a chuckle out of him, for he feared that if he didn’t, his brother wouldn’t believe his words despite being the truth. –I’ve got to admit that when Jason became Robin I wasn’t very keen on the idea of Batman having a new partner, but I eventually made my peace with it. And I like being Nightwing. Besides, -he added placing a hand firmly on Tim’s shoulder –you’re neither in my place nor in Jason’s. You’re not a replacement; you’re your own Robin. And I know you’ll be a fantastic one; you already are.

Tim wrapped his arms around his waist in a tight hug. –Thanks…again, Dick. You’re really good at this pep-talk thing, you know?

The black and blue vigilante laughed out loud and gazed at the stars before turning back at his brother. –I have a couple of good jokes as well, wanna hear some of them?

-No, please, not that. –he protested covering his face with his hands, though Dick knew he was smiling underneath them.

-Do I get a turn to ask you a personal question, then? –he asked absentmindedly, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he realized it. Tim lowered his hands and gave him a nod of approval but he hesitated. _You’ve already opened your big mouth, Grayson; might as well ask the question_. –Why did you choose to become Robin? I mean you were, what, thirteen when you first came to Wayne Manor?

-Thirteen and three months. –he corrected sitting straight, maybe to account for every inch his now thirteen years and six months had given him.

-That’s hardly any difference.

-You were the one who just told me I of all people understood the importance of details. –he retorted, making Dick understand a bit more the times when Bruce complained about his younger self using his own words against him. It really is annoying. –Besides, look who is talking; you were nine when you started, so I’m not breaking any rule you haven’t broken before.

-That was a completely different thing. –Dick defended himself, his eyebrows furrowed. But he relaxed them soon enough. –And there is no rule; I’m not accusing you of anything, I was just…curious.

Tim stayed silent for a moment, thinking; weighing his words, considering if he should lie or if Dick could be trusted with the truth. -After Jason, Batman was…spiraling. I mean, I saw it on the news, whenever they showed a footage of him, and it was so obvious to me I couldn’t understand why no one else saw it. –Tim gazed at the stars again, maybe hoping to find the right words written in the constellations. –He seemed…lost, unbalanced, as if he had lost a limb, a part of himself. He seemed in desperate need of someone to help him and even take care of him.

Tim had probably never intended it, but his story kept pouring salt on the wound. _I should have been there for him; should have taken care of him… shit, he did it for me; he took me in and gave me everything when I had nothing. I’m an ingrate. What…what kind of son am I?_

-I realized Batman needed Robin. –his brother said as he nodded. –There can’t be one without the other; at least not fulfilling their highest potential.

_I’m and ex-Robin and there are no ex-Batmans; what happens to me then?_

-So I figured that might as well be me. –Tim concluded, his voice shyly but with a certain pride woven into it, revealing he knew he had made the right decision. –Not that Bruce agreed at first but I…

-Made him. –Dick finished for him as his brother chuckled.

-Well that’s a way of putting it.

-That’s the only way to put it. Damn Tim, you heard the phrase “Vine, vidi, vici” and took it as a personal challenge. –the kid laughed even harder, the wind tugging at his hair and toying with his fringe. –For real though, I’m really proud of you. You have one hell of an origin story and you’re living up to it every day. I know he probably doesn’t say it nearly as often as he should, but he’s proud of you too, you know? –he put an arm around his shoulders in a sided hug.

-Thanks Dick. –he said displaying one of those pure childish grins not even the mask could age. The wind began to blow more strongly and Nightwing shivered so violently Robin snorted.

-You should have brought a sweater with you, old man.

-Ha ha, very funny Boy Wonder. This cold weather caught me with my summer suit, that’s all. I was thinking of heading back anyways. –Tim arched an eyebrow and he proceeded to justify himself. –Yeah, I actually was, because it’s getting kind of late and you want know one disadvantage of being young, mister youthful? You gotta go to school. 

Tim groaned. –That was a really low blow.

Dick smiled mischievously at the practically served-in-a-silver opportunity. –I had to put it at a height you could reach.

His brother’s both amused and shocked expression was priceless. –You little shit! –he exclaimed as he smacked him playfully on his arm with his fist.

-Hey, hey, watch your language; you don’t want to piss off Alfred, don’t you?

-You gotta make this up to me. –Robin said crossing his arms over his chest and playing the victim.

-How about I piggy-back ride you to the Cave?

-That sounds more like your type of sibling-bonding activity. Definitely not my thing.

Dick rolled his eyes. –Come on, we’re both idiots dressed in tight suits eating Batman-shaped ice creams at 1 am; I think we can be honest about what we want.

Tim considered it before replying. –Deal. But we’re not telling Bruce about this, okay?

-Deal. –he promised before jumping to his feet. –Now get up little wing!

…

His legs were like gelatin by the time they arrived at Wayne Manor. After a few blocks his spine had felt like it was about to break and it got even harder after Tim fell asleep, forcing Dick to make a double effort to carry his limp body.

-I’m an acrobat. –he murmured under his breath. –I was built for agility and speed, not to carry people on my back like a mule.

Yet when he carefully laid his brother on his bed and saw him smile in pleasant dreams he couldn’t help but mimic him. This, more than the pep talks and the patrols together, made him feel like a good older brother. Keeping Tim a child at heart was a mission no one had entrusted him but that he had taken up gladly nonetheless. It was the sort of thing he hadn’t had many chances to do, not even for Jason.

He lifted his arms over his head and stretched making his back and waist crack noisily. Tim would probably tell him he was getting old. Jason would too.

He sighed and sat on the boy’s bed. Slowly and careful not to wake him, e unlaced his boots, pulled them off and set them besides his night table. He took off his mask as well and brushed some strands of hair out of his eyes. He looked peaceful, as if he was actually getting sleep.

_I hope he doesn’t have nightmares. Please don’t; not yet at least_.

He was too young. He was way too young to have the kind of nightmare that some nights seemed to stripe Dick down to his bed and left his body paralyzed setting his mind running wild to the darkest of places. Or worse, the kind that had him crying himself back to sleep, the pillow case wet and his body freezing; wishing things were different; wishing _he_ was different; wishing everything would just…stop; at least for only a moment. No, he had to protect him from that. From that and from everything else; he owed it to him.

He wondered what Bruce’s dreams were like, after being on the job for so long, after protecting and saving so many and after seeing so much. If he ever slept.

_I’ve got to make things right with him. Once and for all. I can’t keep doing this; it’s eating me up inside_.

Dick sighed again and kissed Tim’s forehead. –Sleep tight little wing. –he whispered, the nickname familiar and sweet on his tongue and at the same time making it bleed.

Out he went and into the hallway, his legs relieved to be carrying his own weight alone. All the remaining adrenaline had abandoned him, as though a vampire had dug his fangs in his neck and sucked it out of his veins. He was more aware now of his probably sprained wrist.

His feet led him without him knowing and he finally stopped at a door farther away from his bedroom and Tim’s.

He noticed it was closed, a clear sign Bruce had went past it. Alfred usually preferred to let it open after he cleaned but his guardian couldn’t bare the sight of the interior.

Nobody went in there really, aside from the old butler; Bruce consumed by guilt; Tim believing himself too much of an outsider to even set a foot in the room and Dick always feeling upset and undeserving of being there.

But that night something he could not quite recognize tugged at his hand and pushed him to turn the doorknob and get in.

Jason’s room looked exactly like he had left it before he…died. Exactly like before he died, saving from the clothes that had been thrown to the floor. Those Alfred had washed, ironed, folded and neatly left on top of Jason’s bed, as if in any minute he would come back and put them in the wardrobe or throw one of them over his head and wear it for the rest of the day.

A scent hung in the air. Dick recognized easily enough the smell of the cologne he had bought the young Robin for his first birthday at the Manor, a little begrudgingly but under Bruce’s half requests half orders. Jason had loved it. He had said he smelled like a wealthy kid and that it would help him fit in better with the rich brats at Gotham Academy. He had grown so fond of it Bruce would give him more every birthday and Christmas after that day. To think that he had only bought it because Bruce had practically made him and he had had no idea but to get made his heart ache.

He wondered now how the smell had remained. Perhaps Alfred would spray it inside the room every so often when he cleaned it. Or perhaps the place had absorbed it to the point where smell and bedroom could not be separated from one another. Perhaps the scent was tied to Jason’s memory.

Everything in his room certainly screamed “JASON”. From the piled up CDs of his favourite bands to the huge Superman poster hanging over the bed, whose sole purpose was to annoy Bruce.

The former Robin paced around the room and stopped at the shelves stacked with books. Jason had always had a deeper passion for literature than he did. He had stayed in amazed silent for two whole minutes when he had first seen the Manor’s huge library (Dick had been more interested in its chandelier or the tall stairs with the wheels on the base).

He would often surprise him with the craziest and most bewildering of facts that e had picked up from whatever book he was reading at the moment, and had more than once participated in his school’s poetry contest. Bruce and Alfred had always attended, Dick occasionally joining them, and Jason had been delighted. He regretted now not having been there more often.

His love for reading reminded him of Tim’s. But there was no denying they were different. Tim read because it provided him with information he could stash away for later use. He could not sit through a book that didn’t interest him, that was true enough. But with him, reading had purpose.

For Jason, reading was about pleasure. He enjoyed almost every single genre, and he had a fondness for it Dick had been able to compare only to Barbara’s. Jason was the kind of person that always discovered something new and marvelous after re-reading his favourite books.

With a fond smile, Dick pulled one of them out of the shelf. Alice in Wonderland, it read in fancy curly letter under the moon’s gaze.

His brother had once joked about having felt like Alice the first months at the Manor, suddenly immersed in a world of riches, wonder and luxury, and the wildest of adventures; so one Christmas Dick had gotten him a beautiful copy, with hard covers that every book lover would appreciate, and colourful illustrations in the inside. Jason had been entranced from the moment he laid eyes on it, and had jumped onto the sofa and started reading it as soon as he finished ripping apart the wrapping paper.

An invisible hand threatened to crush his heart and Dick quickly put the book back in its place. Something on the bedside table caught his eye. A picture; a _family picture_. Alfred stood beside Bruce, who had a hand on Jason’s shoulder and one arm around Dick’s, a father proud of his sons.

Having their picture taken was something neither Bruce or Jason enjoyed particularly but none of them had wanted to disappoint Alfred. Dick tried hard to remember when was that picture from and realized sadly that he couldn’t. Jason still looked pretty baby-faced and Dick himself was standing as far away from him as possible, so it most likely was one of their first pictures together. _Idiot. Idiot. Why didn’t I sit beside you?_

Eight months had passed since Jason had died; a lifetime and a blink of an eye. Yet it hit Dick then that he had wasted too much time being angry, resenting him for taking his place as Robin instead of taking him in and accepting him. He had been his little brother even before he had liked him. Ever since Bruce had snatched him from the streets when he found him stealing the Batmobile tires they had been family. So why hadn’t he protected him? Why hadn’t he protected Jason the way Bruce had protected him? The way older siblings protected their younger siblings? They way he had told Tim eagles protected robins?

_Why didn’t I protect him!? Why didn’t I!? Why didn’t I!?_

Guilt washed over him, soaking him to the bone.

-Jay… -the waves almost drowned him but he managed to stay afloat and take a deep breath. –Jay I’m…I’m sor…I’m sorry!

The sea won, cascading from his eyes violently; letting out all the guilt and heartbreak he had thought overcame. Images, memories of his time with his brother flooded his mind; Jason laughing at a joke he had told him; Jason’s cape slapping behind him on a night they had gone patrolling just the two of them; Jason reading quietly wearing an ugly Christmas sweater while he watched TV beside him; Jason…

Dick fell to his knees crying and hid his face between his arms, resting them on his brother’s bed. He tried to speak but could not articulate a word; all that came out were choked sounds.

-Little wing, I’m sorry! –he finally croaked between shallow breaths that weren’t enough. –I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. I…I fai…I failed you and…and I almost…almost failed Tim too. I almost failed you again…I’m sorry…I…

He was overwhelmed again, tears and snot mixing and pouring on the blue quilt of the bed.

After Tim became Robin, Dick had promised himself to be better; a better Nightwing to Blüdhaven and Gotham; a better member of the family and most of all, a better brother. He had promised to take care of Tim, to look after him and keep him as far from mortal danger as a vigilante could be. And he had failed. Tim could have _died_ because of him, the person who was supposed to protect him. What would he have done then? What would he do if his brother died? If his death was _his_ fault?

A pair of strong gentle hands laid on his shoulders.

-Master Dick. –he said kindly and softly, his lips barely parting.

Alfred helped him to his feet and he fell into his arms sobbing. The older man held him in a way only he knew how, that made Dick feel all the broken parts inside him were being pieced back together.

-He almost…he almost dies tonight Alfred… -the words tumbled out of his mouth hoped on a trembling voice. He didn’t ask for an explanation, which Dick silently thanked immensely and instead hugged him tighter.

-He almost dies…Tim…Tim almost…he almost… -he choked on his words, crying even harder. Tears ran down his cheeks unbidden, damping Alfred’s pajamas.

_It won’t…it won’t happen again. What happened to Jay will never happen to you, I promise you Tim._

He would be safe; Dick would make sure of it. As long as he lived no one would hurt his brother again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this story was so fun! I just want to clarify that in this story Dick doesn't see Tim as a replacement of Jason, he knows he is a different Robin and a different brother. But his guilt for Jason's death is very strong and in a way it first pushed him to get closer to him and to protect him; I don't know I just love the batsiblings so much!

**Author's Note:**

> (Edit) So I forgot to add this a long time ago, but I saw the idea of Dick's Nightwing suit having the eagle for his parents in a post about Young Justice that compared his suit in season 2 with his parents uniforms in season 1, and I liked it so I decided to go with it!


End file.
